


on the edge of something

by michelleSorta



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Self-Harm, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Stream of Consciousness, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-04 19:02:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3083795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michelleSorta/pseuds/michelleSorta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sanji learns that plants like heavy metal music. Usopp eats an astounding amount of takeout.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sanji paused.

"Pretty, ain't it?" Patty passed by him, arms laden with sullied dishes, and directing an appreciative glance at the flower arrangement.

It was a medium sized piece in an elegant white vase with an array of springtime flowers – vibrant pinks and orange daisies, meshed with long stalks of violet colored bellflowers and thin wisps of green leaves. The arch of bellflowers, loosely braided and affixed over the entirety of the piece, reminded Sanji of a prima ballerina’s grand leap. It was understated enough not to detract from the Baratie’s decor, clean white lines mixed with rich solid mahogany oak, Sanji must have passed it a dozen times but once he finally stopped, he had to stare.

Sanji frowned – the feeling he got from this arrangement was different than the usual ones. It was not just pretty; it had an almost calming effect on him.

"While you were gone setting up the Nasugasira for those few months, the flower shop that we were using before seriously went downhill in quality,” explained Patty.

Sanji had been meaning to talk to Zeff about their current florist after he finished breaking ground for the Baratie’s sister restaurant: Nasugasira. The flower shop owner they had been using had drastically declined in quality as of late. They probably thought they could pull a fast one, thinking they would be too busy to notice that they were including more filler and cheap flowers in their pieces for the Baratie.

“..and the old man, geez was he heated,” continued Patty. “He almost personally threw the guy out of the restaurant himself with the last crappy floral arrangement.” He grinned widely at the memory, “Luckily we found another florist. It’s a couple of blocks away and a little more expensive, but…”

Patty nodded his head toward their clients. It was brunch time and predominantly filled with ladies - Sanji had gladly served them personally earlier - and many of them, with beautiful smiles on their faces, had their phones out to take pictures of the table’s centerpieces. The tabletop pieces were similar to the larger ones along the walls, albeit smaller. They had a similar effect of being truly dynamic of a piece of art once inspected further - with sprigs of delicately arranged orange and yellow daisies and brilliant blue harmony irises with brown twigs interspaced, all arranged in clear, square water vases with obvious care.

“Looks like it’s worth it,” said Sanji with a satisfied grin. “The lady who arranged it must have a beautiful spirit to match her craft.”

Already images of a serene smile and long, graceful fingers danced in his mind as he imaged the florist. Truly the beautiful woman must be a garden fairy.

“Nah, the florist is a dude. Pretty nice guy if you ask me,” said Patty as he continued his trek back into the kitchen.

Sanji snorted, dreams shattered and disappointed. His image of a beautiful long legged flower fairy abruptly turned into a dirty gnome. “Didn’t ask you, ya shitty cook.”

\---

 

“Not bad,” said Zeff. He sniffed at the delicate stalk of basil in his hand, his long whiskers brushing against the delicate plant, before he threw it inside his mouth with a thoughtful hum. He smacked his lips and inhaled through his nose to allow the aromatic flavors of the herb to better circulate on his palate.

“Naturally,” replied Usopp with a smug grin, amused and honored at the attention of care the chef paid to the plant. “When I was three, I was already growing a hundred acres of pumpkins and squash. Herbs are a small matter for my brilliant green thumb and toes.”

Zeff raised his eyebrow, his eyes narrowing slightly at the obvious lie.

Usopp blushed. “I mean, I’m glad you like it. After I started making floral arrangements for the Baratie, my business has grown by at least 30%. The least I could do is share some of my greenhouse stash.”

“So you’re the guy who makes the arrangements.” Sanji suddenly appeared from directly behind the florist. Well, his image of a garden gnome was not completely inaccurate, the man did have a long nose like a gnome.

Usopp squeaked, nearly jumping out of his seat on the kitchen stool and sending herbs and flowers flying into the air if not for Sanji grasping him on his shoulder and steadying him.

“I-I am,” stammered Usopp. He looked up at Sanji, a streak of red across his brown cheeks and the tip of his long nose. Sanji felt a thump in his chest as the other stared bashfully up at him through impossibly long lashes.

“This is little eggplant,” said Zeff, he was leaning on his arm, staring at Sanji and Usopp with one of his shitty fucking grins – the bastard loved keeping him in the dark.

Sanji huffed, exasperated, at the nickname that his adopted father still insisted on using despite the fact he was a grown man. “And this is Usopp, he’s the one who makes the flower arrangements. He’s also the owner of the flower shop, Pop Green.”

“Hey geezer, the name’s Sanji,” he corrected with a huff. “Not eggplant.”

“And he’s not a chick,” Zeff nodded toward Usopp who furrowed his brow slightly.

“It’s a pleasure,” said Usopp wryly. “Zeff has told me a lot about you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mostly about you being a pervert for the ladies,” interjected Zeff. “That, and wetting the bed until you were eleven.”

“Shitty geezer!” Sanji howled, about to wallop the older man except Zeff threw a sprig of rosemary into his open mouth, causing him to pause.

“Oh,” he munched on the plant, his nostril filling up with spicy-sweet tang of rosemary. “That’s good.”

Usopp grinned. “It’s also a good diuretic.”

That earned him a thump on the head.

\---

 

Sanji looked up Usopp’s name later that evening. The man could not have been much older than him, but he was already a business owner. Hm.

King Usopp…

Huh.

Immediately numerous news articles appeared on the search engine - there were pictures of a young man, scrawny with a long nose standing next to beautifully crafted floral arrangements, some almost as tall as he was. Next to his flowers, when busy pruning the edges, his fingertips reverently touching the leaves of a bud, he was confident and focused. However, that dramatically changed once on the awards stage; Sanji could almost see his knees knocking in stage fright. Sanji clicked the first link and. He was younger than him by two years, and surprisingly a three-time national champion in floral art while only a teenager.

Skimming the article, it mostly included a quick bio, the son of a single mother who was a professional painter. She was mostly regionally recognized, but her son, Usopp, had surpassed all expectation and was considered a prodigy when it came to the art of flower arrangement. He won an international floral arrangement competition before abruptly disappearing from the spotlight.

Sanji liked a mystery. Albeit, primarily centered on gorgeous ladies. However, the more he tried to push the nonsensical wonder of the young florist, the more he kept envisioning curious dark eyes and an endearingly dry smile directed toward him.

\---

 

“Pop Green should be somewhere here…” Sanji looked up from the map on his cellphone.

There was hardly a sign, but he nevertheless headed in the direction of the building quite literally covered in ivy.

The exterior of the tan and brown brownstone building was nearly completely enveloped by vibrant foliage. On the windows on the second floor, peeking through the lush ivy leaves were boxes of purple African violets and white gardenias. It almost seemed normal compared to the buildings on either side of it – he was walking down the infamous artists’ district after all. The block was known in the city and surrounding area for its unusually eclectic storefront. The buildings surrounding the ivy covered Pop Green were both weathered and seemingly average brownstones except one was covered in a red, white, and blue motif with large white stars scattered along the windows and balcony façade like an explosion of fireworks while the other had musical notes and a silhouette of a piano keyboard on its window blinds – on the front door was the shop’s mascot, a smiling blue whale with an afro on its head seemingly singing along to the notes surrounding it.

Sanji paused outside, next to the earthen pots filled with sunflowers. Some of the sunflowers nearly stood as tall as him, all happily pointing toward the sun. He would have to ask Usopp if he could have the plants after they withered for the sunflower seeds.

The front of the store had large windows, allowing the direct sun to warmly shine in and passersby to see the vast array of plants - from the vibrant multitude of roses - the typical red and white to the cheerful yellow - waiting to be bundled in bouquet for a passing couple, to the slightly unusual like the cacti standing in the sunny corner of the store. The only sign indicating that this was the Pop Green flower shop was a chalk sign sitting in front alongside the sunflowers.

“Hey bro!” A tall man with fluorescent blue hair on a large motorcycle with speedo-like shorts – Sanji nearly gagged on his cigarette – paused before heading into the garage of the star covered building. He lifted his sunglasses and smiled sunnily, “You should go in, it’s pretty rad!”

“Thanks for the advice,” said Sanji drily as he finished his cigarette, uninterested in the advice of a person that was not a beautiful woman.

“Yeah bro! The plants are pretty awesome, but the lady, OWW, she’s the most super ever!” The man grinned widely before he rode his bike inside.

“A lady?” Sanji perked up. “A super lady? Hmm.” He eagerly crushed his cigarette and walked inside. The little bell of the door rang softly as he opened it. The smell of soil - warm and heady - and fresh plants - fragrant and fresh - immediately hit his nose.

“Welcome to Pop Green. How many I help you?” A beautiful woman, a little bit older than him, with a mysterious smile looked up from her book at the counter, her long fingers holding a page in mid-turn.

“Such beauty!” Sanji swooned. The mental image of whom he envisioned was the original floral artist paled in comparison to the visage before him.

“I’m Sanji, the general manager of the Baratie,” he stated as he eagerly glided over to the woman. He extended his hand, “But more importantly, may I have the honor of asking your name?”

Her smile widened slightly, amused, as he reverently placed a kiss on the smooth brown skin of the back of her hand. “Nico Robin. It’s a pleasure.”

“The pleasure is mine,” said Sanji, the hearts in his eyes that were directed towards Robin obvious even to the plants.

“How may I help you?” Robin pulled a large leather bound book from the side of her counter. In it was a monthly calendar, with the occasional bright yellow post-it note, all filled in with beautiful, calligraphy-like writing and the occasional messy scrawl. “According to my notes and receipts, we have already delivered the Baratie’s flowers for the week. The next order won’t be due until Friday.”

“I’m sure a brilliant beauty like yourself would never mess up an order. We are quite satisfied with this weeks flowers,” assured Sanji. “Usopp called Zeff earlier about some herbs that I could pick up. Although,” he leaned closer, “I would be more than happy for you to show me them in his place. The blue haired ruffian outside said that there was a lovely lady inside but his statement did not do you justice.”

“Lovely…” Robin’s smile remained professional, if still not unreadable, but her eyes warmed. “Did he perchance use the word super?”

“Why he did, but to be more accurate, he should have affixed your beauty with words like _magnificent_ or _breathtaking_.”

“I am actually quite fond of super,” Robin stated, shooting a warm glance to the building the man had disappeared into earlier. She gracefully stood up, her tall stature nearly matching his - Sanji nearly fell to his knees in reverence - and turned around, “Usopp is out in the greenhouse. Let me show you the way.”

“Gladly!”

Pass a back room filled with even more plants, most of them refrigerated, along with rows and rows of ribbons, wire, and foam, different sorts of shears and scissors, and a shelf with vases of all different shapes and size. There was an open sketch pad, a half drawn flower arrangement was in the forefront of the page; little doodles of Venus fly traps and humanoid beetles chasing after stick figures were in the margins. In the corner of the room was a battered brown couch that Sanji could have sworn he had seen months ago dumped in a nearby alleyway. Someone had attempted to make it more presentable with a decorative and truly gaudy green and orange throw.

Robin opened a heavy iron door. Sanji was momentarily blinded; lightly colored spots decorated his vision. He blinked several times and stood star struck.  

There was a literal garden-slash-forest in the middle of downtown East Blue.

Numbly, he could hear Robin turn on her heel. She tapped him on the shoulder – he would never wash this jacket again – and pointed in the direction of a greenhouse in the far corner. “He’s in there. Try not to startle him too much.”

“Thank you so much for your gracious assistance, my lovely lady,” Sanji said, shooting her a grin before she disappeared behind the door. The path, a haphazard walkway with what looked like found pieces of cement and cobblestone, spiraled throughout the courtyard amongst the rows and rows of planted and boxed flowers and various other plants. There were also edibles, not just herbs and flowers. The little bell pepper plants were coming in nicely, he observed as he walked through the greenery.

Sanji frowned, hearing muffled noises in the greenhouse. The thin plastic walls shook. Tentatively opening the rickety door, his senses were assaulted with hot air and incredibly loud heavy metal music. Screaming heavy metal music at that.

“What kind of shitty taste does this guy have?” Sanji muttered, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end and his nerves frayed at the noise that he refused to call music. It was hot, borderline sweltering, within the walls of the greenhouse. The walls quivered at the noise, and the seemingly more delicate plants swayed, as if attempting to head bang to the noise. The majority of the plants in the greenhouse were definitely not native to East Blue, he observed as he trekked inward. He spied a banana tree off in the distance.

The further he trekked, the more he expected a monkey to jump at him. He glared the Venus flytraps that he swore followed his movement as he crossed the expansive greenhouse.

Sanji eventually came across wild hair, thick curls of inky black, poke up from behind a bush. Turning the corner, he saw Usopp crouched low, in scruffy brown overalls, his hair tied up in a loose bun with a tie-dyed bandana wrapped around his skull. In his bare hands was a small plant that clearly had seen better days. His full lips moved, not along with the song. Sanji rolled his eyes, a fond and warm feeling in his chest as he realized that Usopp was talking to the plant, despite the fact that his voice was probably drowned out amongst the heavy metal. Spying the old school boom box, Sanji abruptly tapped the Power button with the heel of his shoe.

“- reat Usopp was a mighty warrior - what the -” Usopp squeaked out loud, clutching the plant to his chest and stared wide eyed around him. “Oh.”

“Hey,” said Sanji, suddenly unnerved by the abrupt quiet as Usopp stared up at him dumbly.

“Hello,” replied Usopp after a beat. He jolted and suddenly raised the plant, it was the size of Sanji’s hand and it was nearly brown except its stem, “And this is Fernando.”

“You name your plants?”

“Yeah,” Usopp looked down at plant and smiled fondly. “Especially the ones like these, the abandoned ones, I think they need them the most.”

“I suppose that makes sense.”

“It’s a blue thistle,” continued Usopp. “It was in the park, near the kids’ playground, trampled and halfway dead. I thought maybe… I could save it.” He flushed, scratching his face and smudging his cheek with soil. “Silly, right?”

“Nah,” Sanji crouched down, staring at the brow beaten plant, any indicator that it was a flower let alone a viable plant nearly gone. He shrugged, swiping the dirt from Usopp’s face. “It’s a good goal.”

Usopp abruptly turned away. The tips of his ears were red. “A-anyway! I have to repot this plant.”

Sanji mentally berated himself. Why did he do that? He rationalized the dirt had probably bothered his internal clean freak. His fingers twitched, the memory of soft brown skin, warmed by the sun, lingered.

Usopp had a small container, an old plastic yogurt bowl, in his hands. He mumbled to himself before scooping several mixtures of soil in it and then carefully depositing the thistle in its confines. “Where’s Zeff? I thought he was the one who coming to taste the rest of my herbs?”

“Stuff came up.” Stuff being that Sanji may or may not have bugged Zeff for the past couple of days to take his place to visit Usopp - err, Pop Green. For the sake of herbs and not because he was curious about this florist with the wild hair and charming smile. Yes. Herbs.

“Oh, ok,” said Usopp as he placed the pot with the halfway dying thistle in the indirect sunlight. He poured a little water and lastly patted the pot, “See ya later, Fernando. Get better.”

He brushed off his overalls, in reality only putting more dirt on said article of clothing. “Come on, I already harvested the fresh herbs, but I have some that I was drying for you to taste too.”

“Show me the way, Great Usopp.” Sanji even extended a hand in front of himself, indicating to Usopp to lead the way.

“Damn straight,” said Usopp with an obviously pleased grin. He tapped the boombox on as he marched out, heavy metal blasting throughout the small building. Sanji swore the plants perked up once the music resumed.

Sanji happily accepted the crate full of herbs: nearly overflowing with thyme, basil, sage, and a multitude of others that he would inspect later. He had not expected the walk to the roof of the building.

Sanji eyed the fire escape, potted plants hanging from the sides. “I’m pretty sure those plants are a hazard in it of itself.”

“The fire marshal and I are chums,” said Usopp, his voice quaked slightly. “But don’t tell him I said that.”

“Uh huh.”

They passed the second floor – someone was using it as an apartment. Surprisingly, it was not overrun with plants. However, there were numerous sketchbooks, the open pages were covered in doodles and drawings similar to the drawing in the store, atop the tables. Otherwise, it was orderly.

“That’s my apartment,” said Usopp as they walked up the stairs.

“You own the building?”

“Yeah, well…” Usopp shrugged. “Cost effective.”

Downtown East Blue was an up and coming part of city, just five years ago it had been easily one of the more dilapidated part of the city. However, there was a boom of interest for the downtown location, and while real estate prices were still affordable, to own a building was a still lofty sum. Zeff had taken out a hefty bank loan to afford the location for the Baratie.

“I’ll have you know I was a former bounty hunter,” announced Usopp as they stepped atop the roof. It too was covered in numerous plants. In the middle was what looked like a shack. Inside were rows of drying racks. “The best there was, I bagged over a thousand criminals.” He puffed his chest as he walked confidently through a row of racks. Sanji sniffed the air; the pungent smell of dried herbs permeated the air.

Usopp extended his arms in the air, “This building is bought with money filled with justice!”

“Sure,” said Sanji as he pulled out a rack. Hm. Sage.

“Give it another day or so,” Usopp said as he pulled out another rack. “Here, these are good.”

Sanji gave it a sniff, pleased. “You’re right.”

“Of course,” Usopp smugly rubbed his nose. “I’m a master gardener. I have one of the best noses there is.”

“Probably because it’s so long,” muttered Sanji as he sampled some thyme; it had a pleasantly strong tang.

“The pride of my family,” huffed Usopp, thumping his chest. His voice grew softer, “It runs in my mom’s side of the family.”

“Where she now? Was she a bounty hunter too?” Sanji looked up after a moment after a lack of response.

“She passed away a few years ago,” said Usopp after he noticed Sanji staring. He waved his hand, “She was really ill, especially after my dad left a-and,” Usopp paled, shuffling the herbs, his fingers trembling as he placed them in the basket above the fresh ones. “I- I told you too much, I’m sure you didn’t need to know that…”

“Was that the reason why you disappeared from competition?” Sanji grabbed Usopp’s wrists, holding them tightly until the tremors subsided.

“You looked me up,” Usopp said surprised and touched. “I meant it when I told you I was awesome.”

“You were right,” agreed Sanji. “You are pretty great. Even more so than I thought initially.”

\---

 

“Lavender and chamomile tea,” said Sanji as he placed it in front of Usopp. “I added some lemon balm.”

“Smells great.” Usopp wrapped his fingers around the mug, scrunching his face at the first sip. He stuck out his tongue, “I bunt mah thunng.”

“Idiot,” said Sanji fondly. There were even herbs hanging in Usopp’s kitchen. Given that Sanji was a few inches taller than Usopp, he had to duck slightly lest he get a face full of tarragon.

“When do you have to go back to the restaurant, by the way?” Usopp nodded toward the crate of herbs in the corner. “Dinner rush and all?”

“It’s my day off,” Sanji replied as he lit himself a cigarette. He inhaled happily. The smell of earth and herbs had finally become overbearing. “Shouldn’t you be manning the store instead of allowing a beautiful women to handle it on her own?”

“Robin?” Usopp looked at the clock hanging from the doorframe - it was shaped like an armadillo. “She probably started closing up after she invited you to the back. Her husband works next door and picks her up and helps her close the store.”

Sanji gasped out loud, nearly dropping his cigarette from his mouth. “She’s married?!”

_To speedo man?_

“Yeah,” said Usopp as he added more honey to his tea. “She doesn’t like dirt to stain her ring so she doesn’t wear it at work.” Usopp jabbed a thumb to the building next door, the one with the outrageous blue and black sign with stars littering across the name. “He owns Franky’s Motors next door.”

Before Sanji has the opportunity to weep, lightning cracked in the air.

“The sky is still blue,” murmured Usopp, peering out the window. Dark clouds, heavy with precipitation, were quickly darkening the sky.

“Shitty newsman,” grunted Sanji as he lit himself another cigarette. He was not in the mood to walk back in the pouring rain. He was wearing his good leather shoes. “He said it was only a 30% chance of stormy weather.”

“You can stay until the weather lets up,” said Usopp. “I have a spare guest room.” He made a noise in the back of his throat, “But it’s covered in gardening magazines and sketch pads. You might need to give me a minute or twenty to clean it up.”

“I’m not planning on spending the night,” assured Sanji too quickly.

A large bolt of thunder cracked in the rain and the building shook.

Usopp latched onto Sanji’s arm, his fingers digging into the sleeve of his jacket.

Sanji shook his arm, but Usopp’s grip was tight. “Wimp.”

“You looked scared,” was the whimpered response.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

It started off slow but quickly the drops of rain multiplied until it felt like nature itself was knocking a million times over on the roof, demanding to get in.

“I wouldn’t mind the couch,” said Sanji after a beat.

“Cook dinner and you got a deal,” replied Usopp, a large relieved grin on his face as he slowly unlatched himself from Sanji’s arm.

“This is extortion,” muttered Sanji but he opened the fridge door. “What do you want and what do you have?”

“I’ll eat anything except mushrooms.”

“You’ll eat what I give you. Picky eaters are the fucking worst,” retorted Sanji, ignoring Usopp as the other stuck his tongue out at him, He grumbled as he pulled out the various containers of leftovers from Usopp’s kitchen. Horrified was an understatement of what he was feeling.

“I like take-out,” shrugged Usopp.

“Like a heathen,” Sanji gritted his teeth as he pulled a pot out. Soup it was. Checking the cabinets, he breathed a sigh of relief once he saw there was a sack of flour available.

An hour later and there was bread baking and a large pot of soup bubbling atop Usopp’s stove.

“I’m a fuckin’ miracle worker,” exclaimed Sanji proudly.

“Indeed, it smells lovely,” said a familiar voice. Robin had stuck her head outside of her apartment window, which was adjacent to Usopp’s kitchen window.

“Hey Robin,” Usopp waved. Sanji swooned once again.

“Usopp-bro!” Franky joined Robin and poked his head through the window of their apartment. “Got enough to share? We’ll bring the wine and dessert! Robin got an awesome pie!”

“For a beautiful lady, I will happily forsake meals for these two!” Sanji responded eagerly.

“You’re using my ingredients and stove!” Usopp huffed. He opened the backdoor of his kitchen that led to the walkway adjoining their apartments. Again, not exactly up to code but the fire marshal did not have to know. “You forgot to go grocery shopping again, didn’t you Franky?”

“However, he remembered to buy cola.” The smile on Robin’s face was nearly subzero.

Franky blushed, a mixture of bashful and ashamed as he walked behind Robin.

There was enough food for everyone. A bottle of wine turned into three, and they moved the impromptu dinner party into the living room after the power went out.

“No, we don’t need your absurd cola powered lanterns,” said Robin as she and Usopp brought candles from the flower shop. Sanji uncorked the third bottle of wine and made hot mulled wine to have along with the pie. The temperature had rapidly fallen as a result of the storm. While the rain continued to pour throughout the night, the occasional crack of lightning and boom of thunder resounding in the air, no one seemed to mind.

Sanji woke up with a start.

It was still dark. Fortunately, someone must have blown out the candles before the building had caught on fire. The moon shone through the open windows of Usopp’s apartments, lighting the apartment in a soft pale blue and white glow.

Robin and Franky were lying lengthwise on the sofa; she was tucked protectively against the back of the couch by Franky’s larger form.

There was weight on Sanji’s shoulder, distracting him from being envious. He turned and soft, thick black hair brushed against his face - oh.

Usopp was beside him on the loveseat, tucked in a loose ball, his head resting heavily on Sanji’s shoulder. He looked down at his lap; a thick brown and navy blue quilt was draped over his lap, solely on him. “Stupid.”

Carefully, not wake Usopp, Sanji partially draped the quilt onto the slumbering man, tucking the other corner around his shoulders.

Usopp murmured, happy and warm, and snuggled closer.

Sanji huffed, a grin on his face that he would deny if ever questioned, and slouched a little more and closed his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Usopp is a clumsy drunk.

 

It was times like these, half asleep and already covered in pollen and bits of ribbon, that Usopp wondered about his decision about becoming a florist.

The sun was barely awake, a mere glimmer of violet and hazy blues along the horizon, when he jumped out of his vehicle and knocked on the back door of the Baratie.

Usopp heard crashing. There was a plethora of cursing and eventually Sanji opened the door, his eyebrow twitching in annoyance.

"What do you want, Long Nose?"

"Your order," replied Usopp wryly. “Sir.”

"About time," the corners of Sanji's mouth curved upward; the twitch of his fingers, the burning need for nicotine, momentarily curbed.

Usopp always delivered the Baratie's flowers on Friday morning and Sanji always opened the door annoyed as hell. Mostly because the day’s prep work had to be completed before the brunch rush (it was always finished in time but barely Sanji was a stickler for propriety). Always, Usopp took a step back, ready to go back to crash in his bed since the Baratie’s was his only early deliveries on Friday morning, but -

"Wanna cup of coffee before you leave?"

"Tea," said Usopp, tucking his keys back into his pocket.

"You'll take what I give you and like it," Sanji automatically replied with his usual feigned annoyance.

"What horrible service," remarked Usopp, yelping when Sanji made an attempt to kick at his shins.

One of the hosts came around and helped Usopp unload the flowers onto carts before she whisked them away to be placed around the Baratie.

Usopp greeted the vegetable man as he pulled up with his morning deliveries for the Baratie before walking around the restaurant through the front door. He was explicitly not allowed through the kitchen with his muddy boots. An incident occurred when one of the chefs nearly fainted when looking at his fingernails, blackened underneath with potting soil.

The foyer and dining area was not as loud as the kitchen but it was no less busy with the servers and hostesses fiercely cleaning and double cleaning the silverware, glassware, plates, tables, chairs, and anything else that could be cleaned until it glistened.

Usopp was constantly impressed: Zeff ran a tight ship.

If one of the staff essentially followed his footsteps, fiercely sweeping the floor where he walked, Usopp didn’t say anything. He did, however, head straight to the bathroom to clean his hands. He couldn’t help it, he was surrounded by dirt and made no apologies for it.

He did, however, walk out out of the restroom, his hands pink and tender from the hot water and soap.

His usual table was in the corner, out of the way of the staff. It was next to the window that looked out onto the streets of East Blue with a prime view of the rising sun, the moon a faint grey shadow in the violet colored sky. The tidy brick walkways of downtown were already starting to bustle, with cafe’s opening their doors for the early morning crowd heading to work and the evening workers grabbing a snack before returning home to their beds. A bus drove by, more than a few of its occupants faces pressed against the window as they grabbed a cat nap while commuting to work.

Already waiting for Usopp on the table was a full pot of tea and two mugs: a buttercup yellow mug with a slightly chipped handle and an electric blue mug with an image of a crying eggplant. Sanji had scoffed at Usopp’s teasing look at his cup but he nevertheless fiercely gripped his blue mug.

"Mmm," Usopp took a sip; it was a rosehip and pine needle blend. It tasted like smoke and menthol with a citrus aftertaste.

“Good, right?” Sanji appeared at the other end of the table, tray in hand, clearly impressed with himself as he took a seat across from Usopp.

“I’ve had better,” Usopp lied as he took another sip.

Sanji snorted in disbelief before pouring himself a mug of tea. He pushed a plate closer to Usopp. As well as being the Baratie’s florist, Usopp had the off-duty job of being Sanji’s guinea pig for his food trials; it was more thrust upon him than anything else after a seemingly innocuous offer of a hot beverage. On today's testing menu were soft, airy buttermilk biscuits and a side of tartly sweet strawberry jam and rich clotted cream, specks of buttery yellow in its thick folds.

“I’ll just help myself,” said Usopp as he eagerly lathered a biscuit with cream and jam. He took a bite of the treat, his cheeks quickly flushed with pleasure. “This is really good.”

“So you do having working taste buds,” replied Sanji, pleased as he leaned against the back of his chair. “It’s a new recipe I’m trying out. I can’t give it to the ladies unless it’s absolutely perfect.”

“Glad I could be of service,” said Usopp, saluting Sanji with a biscuit still in hand. One bite quickly turned into two and suddenly he was already on his third biscuit.

While Usopp ate, Sanji went on and on about the recipe (the amount of butter used in the biscuits had Usopp slightly fearful for his arteries). The topic eventually moved onto the rest of the cooks who were behind on memorizing next week’s menu, the construction for the Nasugasira, and the myriad of pretty office ladies that he swooned over this week. In turn, Usopp regaled him with stories of flowers, of clients who wanted six feet tall flower arrangements, and somehow that tale evolved into a story where Usopp totally drew up and arranged a hundred and ninety rose parade floats by his lonesome. They ended up laughing and throwing jokes and insults at one another until Usopp felt his sides were about to burst from the seams from giggling.

It always eventually came to an end when screams erupted from the kitchen.

“Lunkheads,” sighed Sanji. He placed extra biscuits in a take out container, re-heating instructions written in marker on the lid. “I’ll clean up.”

Usopp caught himself smiling fondly at Sanji’s retreating back. He inhaled and carefully squashed the squirming feeling of something for the blond in the pit of his stomach.

It was probably indigestion.

“Lucky,” sighed a host, Gin, as Usopp walked out the door. He was sweeping the sidewalk in front the Baratie of leaves and debris. “You got to try the good biscuits.”

Usopp frowned. “The good ones?”

“Yeah,” Gin rubbed his stomach with a wince. He jabbed a hand at the rest of the male wait staff. Now that Usopp looked at them more closely, they were looking a little pale. “Us and the rest of the guys had to try the first two dozen trial batches. Also, the failures."

Sanji had a stanch policy that food should not be wasted. Leftovers that customers didn't take with them were usually mulched in the back for the vegetable farmer in the back.

"I won’t be able to look at a biscuit the same way for a while.” Gin stopped sweeping and looked at Usopp in an impressed manner. Usopp felt the familiar prickly spike of anxiety form just above the service of his skin.

“You and Sanji must be good friends if he’s willing to let you try the latter end of his food experiments.”

“The _best_ of friends,” replied sharply. He winced. “To be honest, I think he feeds me because he thinks I’m gonna go to my grave early with all the take-out I’ve been eating all these years.”

Come to think of it, Usopp often saw Sanji at least twice a week. Not only to deliver flower arrangements, but to go over the theme or feel for the flowers.

Always, Sanji arrived with food.

It was usually enough for visitors (i.e. Robin and Franky) but usually, they ate by themselves.

Usopp...had thought nothing of it.

 _Nothing_.

“Still,” insisted Gin. “He must think highly of you.”

“I’m the Great Usopp,” chuckled Usopp, keeping the tone of his voice light. “It's a rare when someone doesn't think highly of me."

Gin gave him a dry look

"Anyway," Usopp chuckled awkwardly, hastening his walk back to his truck. His ears were burning. “I’ll see you all next week.”

\---

 

  

Usopp placed the to-go container in the fridge and grabbed a quick shower. His eyelids were growing heavy and he had another three or four hours of sleep before he had to open Pop Green.

Usopp sighed.

Someone was already in his bed. He spied the familiar orange colored knapsack in the corner of his room.

"Scoot over," he said as he pushed the warm body more to the side of the bed, eager to curl up underneath the downy comforter. He had undressed down to his boxers and it was cold in his bedroom.

Nami groaned but threw her arm around him, snuggling against his side when he settled back in his bed with a tired groan. She wrapped herself around him like an octopus, a long leg thrown over his stomach while she crushed his face against her front.

Hello boobs. Huh.

Well, they were comfortable.

Nami scrunched up her nose, "You're cold."

"That's what happens when you do deliveries at four in the morning," Usopp yawned as he tucked himself against her. "How long are you in town this time?"

Nami was his dearest friend and a renowned climatologist. It was not uncommon for her to be gone weeks and maybe months at a time with conferences or research trips.

"A while," she mumbled.

"The guest room is still free."

She squeezed him tighter. "I know."

Usopp sighed again, but it was happy one.

He hasn't been this warm in a long time.

“Welcome back,” he murmured as he drifted back to sleep.

Dimly, he could feel Nami’s smile against his hair.

When Usopp woke up, it was a result of sounds coming from his kitchen. He was alone in his bed, a warm spot next to him. He trudged out of his bedroom, barefoot and in his ratty sweatpants and tank top, his curly hair in disarray and sticking up in all directions.

Robin was at his stove, cooking what smelled like delicious breakfast food: eggs, sausage, bacon, and pancakes. Franky was on the other end of the kitchen, dancing to a rock ballad on the radio, mixing fruit salad and squeezing fresh fruit juice. Occasionally he would pinch Robin’s butt in what he thought was a covert manner, earning him a swap of the hand with a nearby wooden spoon.

Nami was sitting at the kitchen table, a newspaper open on the table a cup of orange juice in front of her, recounting to the couple on her last trip abroad to the Grand Line. It was a swath of the planet with unusual weather patterns and a climatologist's dream. She must have raided Usopp’s drying machine because she was wearing his boxers and an old band shirt.

"Morning," Usopp yawned as he settled beside her.

"You were dead to the world, Usopp-bro," exclaimed Franky.

"Especially if you were able to sleep through Franky's chatter," Robin added with a fond giggle.

Speaking of laughter.

"HOHOHOHO!" Brook's afro appeared at the window and then his smiling face. On his arm was his little black wiener dog, Laboon, wagging his tail eagerly, as he entered the apartment. On his other arm was a thick loaf of crusty loaf of bread from the bakery the block over. "Good morning, everyone! Shall I entertain you with a song?"

Laboon barked, his tail wagging even harder.

"After we eat," said Robin. She gave Laboon half a strip of bacon after the dog stared at her dejectedly.

Franky and Brooks plate the food while Robin took a seat. Usopp poured her a cup of coffee while Nami grabbed the bottle of syrup and nearly used it all up on her pancakes.

It was loud and rowdy and this breakfast will more than likely run late and they'd all be delayed opening their respective stores but no one seems to mind when they finally departed.

\---

 

 

Sanji was waiting outside of the store, smoking a cigarette, when Usopp opened Pop Green.

“Good afternoon,” Usopp greeted as he opened the door. “What’s up?”

“We’re missing one arrangement for the tables,” explained Sanji as he walked inside. He raised an eyebrow and playfully said, “Are you trying to jip me?”

“Never,” replied Usopp as he took a step back. “You’re too anal retentive, I would never be able to get away with it - ou - hey!”

Sanji had made another swipe at his shins with his foot.

“Get to work, shitty Long Nose,” Sanji grumbled, a half smile on his face at the compliment-slash-insult.

“You already have a customer, Usopp?” Footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs.

Sanji perked up at the sound of a feminine voice.

“Yeah, from the Baratie,” explained Usopp, “I forgot an order. Can you keep him company while I get it completed?”

“It’ll cost you,” answered Nami as she entered the front area.

Fireworks went off.

Immediately, Sanji was in front of her, grasping her hands. “Hello, my lovely lady.”

“Hello,” Nami replied politely, looking at Sanji and then to Usopp.

“He’s quirky,” shrugged Usopp. “A cool guy but…” Sanji was leaning very closely to Nami - hearts clearly in his eyes. “Umm...he really likes women.”

“You are beautiful,” interjected Sanji.

“Thank you,” Nami smiled sweetly and Sanji swooned.

“He _really_ likes women.”

“I could tell,” said Nami dryly. She suddenly brightened, “Hmm… a restaurateur, huh?”

Usopp chuckled, “Go easy on him. He’s a client.”

“Will do,” assured Nami. Usopp didn’t believe her and she already knew it.

“Usopp never mentioned he had another beauty working for him,” said Sanji after Usopp left and he had gathered his bearings. “Did he recently hire you?”

“We’re friends,” replied Nami. “I just came back in town earlier this morning.”

“Are you staying nearby? I know a great place for lunch,” he said with a wink.

“I’m good at the moment, I had a late breakfast at Usopp’s.”

"At Usopp's?"

Nami pointed a finger upward at his second floor apartment building, “I’m staying with him.”

The lucky long nose. “Oh, in his guest room. I heard it was quite messy.”

“It was a disaster area.” With her things from her last visit. “So I slept in his room.”

“...he slept on the couch?” Sanji tried to say casually.

“Nope,” Nami grinned. “We slept in the same bed.”

Sanji froze. "In the same bed."

Nami smiled. "In the same bed."

“SHITTY LONG NOSE.” Sanji kicked open the door to the back room, its hinges cracking from the brute force.

Usopp yelped and jumped from where he was standing at his work desk; the small bouquet - tall white lily of the valleys with soft pink peonies - wrapped in soft lace ribbon, nearly completed. “What the hell, man?”

“You - “ Sanji jabs a finger at Usopp, “And NAMI?!”

Usopp and Nami briefly look at one another. “Yes…?” Less than a day back and she was causing mischief.

“You!” Sanji stepped closer.

Usopp stared at him, exasperated and a touch perturbed, as Sanji loomed over him.

“You slept together!” Sanji said, fuming.

“Yeah,” Usopp replied, frowning. “We often sleep together.”

Sanji spluttered, his mouth opening and closing periodically. “You never told me you were - and she is - but you and her - she’s so hot and you are -”

Nami was leaning against the doorway, her shoulders shaking as she barely contained her giggles.

“ _Nami_ ,” Usopp said, urgency trickling into his voice. He was essentially cornered at his work desk and was more than a little concerned as Sanji’s brain attempted to process the information just provided to him.

“How much are you willing to offer me?”

“I won’t kick you from my apartment,” he replied curtly.

“Spoilsport,” Nami grumbled as she skipped over to Sanji.

“Sanji-dear!”

Immediately, Sanji turned around, an infatuated grin on his face. “What can I do for you Nami-swan?”

“We’re just friends,” Nami said, pointing at Usopp and then at herself. “Usopp has the most comfortable bed.”

"There is no sex," said Usopp since Nami was being a butt and not elaborating properly.

"Absolutely no sex," reiterated Nami.

Sanji glared at Usopp, his face melting into a love-stricken grin once he turned to Nami, “So you’re single.”

“And not looking,” she finished.

“That’s fine,” Sanji replied. “Being in your beautiful presence is enough for me.”

Nami rolled her eyes.

Sanji motioned his head toward Usopp, curious nevertheless. “But you two have never…?”

“Gay,” Usopp said as he walked over to the other side of the work room to box up the flower arrangement.

“There is nothing gay about attending to a woman's needs,” protested Sanji.

“ _I’m_ gay,” stated Usopp as he picked out a plain white box. It might be a tight fit for the tabletop arrangement but the other boxes were too big and there was the risk that it might be ruined during the trek back to the Baratie. He added, “And let’s get the record straight, I’m totally in Nami’s league.”

“In your dreams, babe,” interjected Nami.

“Totally in the same league,” insisted Usopp.

“So you keep saying.” Nami peered up at Sanji. “Huh, looks like he’s in shock.” She snapped her fingers in front of his face, “Earth to Sanji.”

Sanji blinked, his mouth slowly moving. “Usopp is…”

“Not interested in you,” said Usopp breezily as he lined it with soft wrapping paper. He carefully deposited the floral arrangement inside and taped it closed. He eyed Sanji, the man was still as white as a sheet.

He turned to Nami, explaining, “He stayed over.” Nami’s eyes widened. “During a storm, along with Robin and Franky, and we crashed in the living room. _Sleeping_.”

“And here I thought you were becoming more adventurous,” sighed Nami, disappointed.

“Now who’s dreaming,” Usopp asked, poking Nami on her side.

“So you like…” Sanji was slowly coming to terms, it seemed.

“Men,” confirmed Usopp. Well this was certainly a new reaction from the blond. “Not you, by the way. I like men - not all men.” He eyed Sanji specifically. “But still, men.”

Nami interjected, “You’re not his type anyway.” She placed a hand on her hip, “You don’t have a problem with it, do you?”

“I - what - no!” Sanji exclaimed. “I usually have pretty good sense for these things.”

Usopp and Nami look at one another.

“So you’re the gay whisperer or something?” Nami asked.

And Sanji spluttered some more but before he could dig himself into a deeper hole, Usopp gave him his plant.

“See you later, Sanji.”

\---

  

 

As a matter of fact, Sanji was not the gay-whisperer.

“Oh,” Usopp exhaled.

“Right?” Nami chuckled, clinking her wine glass with Robin’s. Franky sat beside her, enjoying a cola with rum. Brooks was on stage crooning a high tempo song with his band.

Sanji may not have been the gay-whisperer but he was quite popular with the queer community. Although the queer community, in his case, leaned more heavily towards gay men with a pension for women’s clothing and transwomen.

With this new information, it was not too unsurprising to see why Sanji was so viscerally shocked about Usopp’s orientation.

“I guess it makes sense he was so surprised then,” stated Usopp as he looked down at his attire. There was nothing particularly distinguishing about him that would (stereotypically) announce his orientation. He was wearing a pair of tight jeans and a button up, nothing too eye-catching. At least, he thought so. Although Usopp did find a slip of paper with someone's number scrawled on it in his back pocket. When it was tucked in there, he would never know.

“Next tattoo,” said Nami, leaning close to him, “Should be a flag or something.”

She pressed her hand against his bare forearm, his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, her fingers pressed against the tattoo of water colors exploding in a burst of green, purple, and blue - it gave off the feeling of a whirlpool. It was part of a sleeve. On his bicep extending almost to his shoulder were flowers, little green sleeping bulbs, brightly colored daisies and chrysanthemum, some opening for the first time, and other’s in the peak of flowering. On his collar bone and reaching towards his back, resting amid the flowers, was an intricately designed tattoo of a Hercules beetle.

“That’s what this is for,” replied Usopp, tapping his side. It was a large abstract piece in the middle of his back - a cherry blossom tree blooming in array of different colors to represent the different people and orientations that existed. He used his dark brown skin as the tree's trunk and branches in contrast to the bright colors - it was his favorite piece out of all the artwork on his body. Nami had gone with him both times he had gotten it done, both times holding his hand while he got it completed. She only had one tattoo, an orange and pinwheel to honor her late mother and her godfather who lived in the town over.

“It’s on your back,” said Nami, reaching towards the buttons of his shirt. “That, and you always wear so much clothing, no one can see!”

“Stop stripping me,” shrieked Usopp, covering his front with his arms. “The important people see!”

“Who?”

“Y-you and- and Robin, Franky - “ Usopp stammered.

“Doesn’t count,” stated Nami.

He _had_ been wearing an awful lot of longsleeve shirts and covering himself. He had rationalized to himself it was because of the persistent chill in the area. Nor… had he really gone out except unless Nami was in town or it was a group thing with Franky, Robin, and Books where he could fade into the background. The number in his backpocket had been an unsuspected surprise.

“You need to get out there,” whined Nami. “Dance! Date! Flirt!”

“She’s right,” said Franky, not so helpfully. “There are a bunch of super people here that would be interested in you.”

“Agreed,” said Robin. “Do you want us to help? I think Brooks said some of his band members have had their eye on you.”

Usopp groaned, slamming his head onto the table. “You all can’t take no for an answer.”

“Never,” his three friends replied.

At the moment, Usopp, along with Nami, Robin, Franky, and Brooks were enjoying the open bar at one of Ivankov’s functions.

Ivankov, another one of Usopp’s favorite clients, was holding a function at the Baratie. He normally ordered once a month from Usopp, and the flower arrangements were always elaborate and enormous arrangements with roses, carnations, lilies, and everything in between. Ivankov had wanted Usopp to uproot his palm trees in his greenhouse on more than one occasion, but always he had vehemently refused. Instead, Usopp has arranged ferns and an assortment of cream colored flowers and branches to simulate a palm tree.

Today, Ivankov was holding a coming of age ceremony for one of his girls. He found it of great importance that his beautiful ladies have a day celebrate when they stepped into their womanhood, no matter what the age. This evening’s ceremony was an honor of one of his ladies, a silver-haired beauty with an impressively long beard.

“Speaking of flirting,” said Robin as she tilted her head toward the corner of the room.

One of Ivankov’s attendees was currently attempting to talk with Sanji. Catherine, if Usopp remembered correctly. Judging from the ashen color on Sanji’s face, the queer man’s attempts were not reciprocated.

“She can do better,” said Robin, watching the scene unfold from behind her wine glass. “Her calves are amazing.”

“She has super lovely hands,” added Franky. “I wonder if she’s ever worked on cars before? The garage could use a strong gal like her.”

“Think we should run interference, Nami?” Usopp asked, feeling sympathetic for Sanji.

“Only if he pays me,” replied Nami. She flagged down a server for another bottle of red wine.

“Guess it’s up to me,” sighs Usopp as he stood up.

Unbeknownst to him, as soon as his back is turned, money exchanges hands underneath the table. Mostly to Nami, of course.

Usopp waved Sanji down.

“Hey!”

Sanji’s shoulders immediately sag when seeing Usopp, relieved. However, when Usopp comes nearer, their shoulders inadvertently brushing as Catherine jostles Sanji, does he freeze.

“Mhmm,” Catherine looks at the two: at Usopp looking expectantly at Sanji, while Sanji tries to look everywhere else in Usopp’s general direction instead of his eyes. “Looks like I should leave you two to sort out your relationship issues…”

“We’re not together,” Sanji and Usopp said simultaneously. They immediately looked at one another, glares on their faces.

“He’s the one who’s acting funny” said Usopp. “And here I thought I was the odd one.”

“You are,” replies Sanji. “You’re still afraid of Brogy.”

“He’s seven feet tall and I’m pretty sure he could crush my head like a grape with just his fingers!”

“Brugy is a sweetheart!” Catherine says before she walks over to her table. The larger portion of the room agree, raising their various glasses in concurrence.

Brogy, who is slicing roast beef at the meats table, blushed. His brother, Dory, on the omelette bar, grinned.

“See?”

“Still absurdly tall,” grumbled Usopp, as petulant as a tulip refusing to emerge in the spring from it’s winter sleep.

After a beat, they were laughing and Sanji tentatively rested a hand on Usopp’s arm.

Usopp grinned, the rough pads of his fingers skimming along Sanji’s knuckles.

They were still cool.

“Shitty Long Nose,” chuckled Sanji.

“Pervy cook,” replied Usopp. He tugged Sanji over to his table and he noticeably brightened seeing Nami and Robin enjoying themselves.

“Nami-Swan! Robin!” In his excitement, Sanji wrapped an arm around Usopp’s middle and nearly dragged him over to his table. “My beautiful ladies! You are a sight for sore eyes!”

“What am I, chopped meat?” Franky pondered. Robin leaned forward to press a consoling kiss against the side of his face.

Sanji grumbled and Usopp and Nami laughed.

The rest of the night goes by in a happy and bubbly blur - like good glass of champagne or a delightfully sweet and tart mixed drink.

Ivankov’s open bar and drink mixes were legendary and Usopp was feeling the after effects.

While drunkenly trying to grab his coat, Usopp stumbled and would have fallen if not for a firm arm that caught him.

“Whoooaaa...the ground,” said Usopp, clinging to steel like forearms.

“Gabababa,” laughs Brogy good naturedly as he steadied Usopp with a large hand. “It looks like you had fun.”

“Good fuuun,” slurred Usopp, smiling sheepishly at the large man. “So many drinks.” He hiccuped, hugging the other man. Brogy was so massive that he can't even touch his fingertips together. “Open bar, maaan. So awesome.”

“Looks like he’s less afraid of you when inebriated,” said Dorry as he strided over to his chuckling brother. Usopp was starting to cuddle against Brogy. “Gegyagya, what a funny guy.”

“You’re not scary,” retorted Usopp, forgetting that he was the one who first made the remark in the beggining. He pokes Brogy’s arm with his nose, “Just really tall. Very cool but has anyone told you that you are really taaall...” He leaned back to peer up at the two, his knees buckling and Brogy and Dory scrambled to keep him from falling to the ground.

“Wow… you're strong.” Usopp blinked. He was wedged between the two brothers, essentially being held up by the two. “Both of you."

He frowned, leaning his weight against one foot and then the other, his back and front pressed against the warm steel of the Little Brothers. “This is awkward.”

“Gegyagya,” Dorry grinned. “Only if you make it to be.”

Someone cleared their throat.

“Sanji!” Usopp nearly fell out of Dorry and Brogy’s grip in an effort to reach the scowling man.

Sanji flicked his finished cigarette into a nearby rubbish bin, his eyes narrowed and a frown on his face as he quickly walked over to the three and yanked Usopp from their grip. The dark-skinned man ungracefully stumbled over to him before somehow tucked against him, his arms wrapped around his middle, his long nose nudging against Sanji’s collarbone. He was giggling and saying Sanji’s name every now and then.

“Shouldn’t you be helping the other’s with the cleaning?” Sanji stared evenly at the two, keeping Usopp upright despite the other man attempting to octopus-hold him down to the ground.

"Yes, boss," Dorry and Brogy said simultaneously, matching grins on their face.

Sanji half dragged, half carried Usopp back into the conference room, grumbling the whole way. “Geez, you’re such a fucking lightweight.” He glared at Usopp, “And I thought you were afraid of them.”

“Naaah,” said Usopp, his face pressed against Sanji’s shoulder, smearing drool across his suit jacket. “They’re cool. Just tall.” He grinned foolishly at Sanji, and damn him if it wasn’t ridiculously endearing. “Yeah, very cool.” He giggled, “And cute.”

“So that’s where your tastes run…” Sanji spared a glance in Dory and Broggy’s direction. While they were competitive and stubborn as boulders, they were kind. He frowned at himself for his sudden frustration, but mumbled, “I guess it could be worse.”

Usopp suddenly lurched away and falls onto his knees, stuffing his face into a nearby waste bin and vomited. That last margarita, his third one for the evening along with numerous shots from earlier, was starting to get back at him.

Dimly, Usopp felt a hand rub his back.

Bile raised in his throat. It tasted like acid and regret and he suddenly remembered a pair of brown eyes surrounded by silver rimmed glasses.

Nevermind, he should have had the fourth margarita.

\--

 

  

Usopp remembered drinking a large glass of water before he was shoved into a shower with his clothes still. Oh… he had soiled them. When did he…?

“Don’t drown,” he dimly heard.

“Where…?” Usopp blearily looked around.

“I can’t let you go home smelling like puke, you shitty lightweight,” said Sanji. He was sitting on the toilet, facing away from him. A cigarette was in his mouth. “Nami and Robin are _ladies_. It would be ungentlemanly of me if I let them walk home with you smelling like that.

“I suppose you’re right,” agreed Usopp, still a little drunk but with the dull throb of a massive hangover forming at the bottom of his skull. It was a struggle, especially with his wet jeans but Usopp eventually stripped himself free of his clothing. The warm water beating against his face like a godsend.

He stepped out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist, and feeling more sober. He patted his face, unaware of the eyes staring at his slim torso and trailing along his arms and back.

“I have some extra clothes you can borrow,” said Sanji abruptly as he quickly stood up and walked out of the bathroom.

Usopp followed, not noticing the stain of red on the tips of Sanji’s ears. 

\--

 

 

Days later, the little bell of Pop Green rang, signaling someone’s entrance into the building. Usopp looked up from watering the plants to greet the customer, a smile on his face and a greeting on his lips, but he immediately froze.

“It’s been a while, Usopp.”

“It...has,”  Usopp hesitantly agreed, his fingers trembling against his watering can. “You look well, Kuro.”

Kuro smiled, it was a very professional and clinical quirk of the lips, really. Usopp could feel bile rising in his throat.

The sound of heels resound on the cement in the backroom.

“Hello,” said Nami as she walks around the corner. “Welcome to - you.”

Nami’s expression from shock to that of a professional lady transitioned seamlessly, so much that Usopp thought he had imagined it. Her eyes narrowed in just the slightest, darting from Usopp, noticeably shivering, to Kuro. The smile on her face was obviously forced.

"Nami," acknowledged Kuro. His eyes steadfastly stared predatorily at Usopp.

 _He can’t be here_ , was the mantra running through Usopp’s mind. _He shouldn’t be here._

“We are suddenly closed,” said Nami.

“Oh? How sudden.” Kuro’s smile didn’t waver. “What an odd business practice. No matter, I just wanted to say hi and pick up a bouquet.”

“I said,” Nami repeated, her voice still pleasant while her eyes looked as if she was mentally stabbing him. “That we are closed. Thank you for your interest.”

“Well,” cooly replied Kuro, taking a step back. He looked at Nami momentarily before finally resting on Usopp who was clutching the watering can for dear life. “I shall be back at a more convenient time then.”

He turned around and exited the building.

Usopp fell to his knees and he faintly heard the click of the door’s lock before Nami is immediately by his side, holding him as he hyperventilated. He was cold and his hands felt numb. It was like a hundred thousand red hot needles were prodding his skin up. The scars on his arm, nearly imperceptible underneath his tattoos, burned.

“You’re okay, you’re okay, breathe Usopp!” Nami said into his ear as she held him tightly.

Sanji’s smile briefly flashed in his mind’s eyes, which was quickly replaced by Kuro’s and he shuddered. Burning hot tears rolled down his cheeks.

Ah… He should not have let down his guard. Disappointment was always fingertips away - Usopp knew this well.

Yet, he had hoped.

His best lies were the ones he told himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeehh, this may not be the most appropriate chapter so close to Valentine's Day.


End file.
